Lyrics
Strippers in the club and my cups half empty
Ride with my niggas cause my niggas understand me
Still on Plan A, pussy niggas on Plan B
Right now, motherfucker let's go
Young rich nigga, young rich nigga
Yeah, what can make a nigga wanna go and get it?
Said he want a Beamer with the subs in it
Said he grew up in a house and it was love missing
Said he grew up in the set, he keep his guns with him
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
And he don't need a reason, he a young nigga
And you don't want your daughter and your sons with him
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
Probably never understand us
'Til he pull in Phantom
When he pull up in a Phantom
He gon' have that shit blasting
Like young nigga, just a young nigga
Young nigga, just a young nigga
What they call you where you from, nigga?
In my city, that was question number one, nigga
Looking at the legend I become, nigga
I can't help, but feeling like I'm the one, nigga
Remember I was on the run, nigga
Couple years before you had a son, nigga
Open up your doors and kept it one, nigga
Held a nigga down and that was love, nigga
Nobody want to stand in front a judge, nigga
Make you think of better days like when you was winning
Standing on the couches in the club with us
But then I got my shot, I had to run with it
Out the gate, lost count, many days in the studio, we slave, but this shit we gotta save
Staring in the space that you fishing for a phrase
Uninspired and your mind, still it's all a paper chase
First you over dedicate, then you notice that you great
And you been the whole time, then it slap you in the face
Then you stack it in your safe, got it cracking, it was fate
You the definition, nigga, laughing to the bank
I'm a master of my fate, plus I'm the type of nigga own the masters to my tape
I'm in Nevada for the day, I just caught a flight from Philly, we just sold out TLA
Fresh up off a stage on my way to B of A
AMB, we L.A, tryna eat, we the way
Look, young Nipsey, he the great, never talk
Had a drink, I just lead to the lake
It's eighty-something degrees in L.A
Fuck it, time to put some jetskis on L.A
Look, I got a team at my bank, I don't even need an I.D at my bank
This used to be a dream we would chase
I know J. Stone and Copy Supreme could relate
I know the whole team could relate
I know Evan Makenzi and Bron Lees could relate
Cornell, Saddam, Adam Man, DeBron, Steven Donaldson and Black Sam been on this Marathon
Balling since my brother used to hustle out the Vons
Couple hundred thousand up, he took a shovel to the lawn
No exaggeration for the content of my songs
When he went to dig it up, shit, a hundred something gone
Molded, you can ask moms
Had to plug in blow dryers for the ones we could wash
Salvaged the little bit
Young rich nigga shit, pressure on your shoulder
How you gon' deal with it?
Say it's all uncomfortable when you transition, but it's all beautiful when you get rich in it
When you start killing shit and they all witness
Money roll faster than niggas could spend the shit
Open more businesses with you and your niggas that watching your vision and being more generate
Like a Ford dealership, we up in Forbes
Watching and they wishing that it wasn't yours
I forgive you, I remember I was poor
Plus I ain't in the way of what you reaching for
Gotta play the game, you gotta read the score
See, I'ma do the same and pop the clutch of four
Told me if I want it, gotta hustle for it
Only difference now, the money more mature
Young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Get your money, young nigga
Get your money, young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Get the money, young nigga
Keep God first though, take that
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